


A Gift

by DagReaper (TyJaxDrax)



Series: A Home For Wayward Mind-Wiped Assassins [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Birthday Presents, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky's 100th Birthday, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Hugs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-01 23:46:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10203578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TyJaxDrax/pseuds/DagReaper
Summary: He strode over to the range, staring out along the path towards the target already set up and waiting on him, his training bow and arrows lying there on the table too. Barnes had definitely been waiting on him to come down and use his free time to shoot his arrows. They made a thing out of this, wasting time on shooting. It was a scheduled thing at this point.Clint waited a few seconds, keeping his ears out for any sounds, though there was nothing. Bucky wasn’t moving or shifting in any way to let him know he was there. Only the bow and target being set up ready for him was the give away. He pulled his hands out of his pocket, box still held in his palm. He swapped it to his other hand and placed it on the table, making sure it was in view from almost all points in the room. He knew that Buck could see it, or he really seriously hoped he caught sight of it from his pocket to the table.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I love these two so much. And I honestly love that they make a damn great pair. 
> 
> Happy 100th birthday, Bucky!!! March 10th.

Bucky’s birthday. One helluva day, apparently. Steve told him about the parties the lady-killer Bucky from the old days used to host. A load of guys drinking and laughing, pub-crawling and even having beast food and drink parties up on rooftops.

He was stuck, Steve was. He’d came to him asking things like ‘what d’you think he’d like?’. Clint understood that Bucky wasn’t Bucky anymore, or the Bucky he remembered. Yeah, he was different, way different. He came to him because the Archer had been the one the Assassin was spending more time with. They hung out at the shooting range, hung out in the sparring room and training room. They spent more time together because they had things in common, one of them being the brainwashing shtick.

He’d realized that after Barnes found out about it, he kept giving him thoughtful looks, like he was trying to figure something out, trying to calculate things and trying to search for something in Clint. Well, he must’ve found it because they were closer, talking, joking around, or Clint was joking around. And babbling a lot. Barnes just seemed to sit there and listen, taking in what he said or did. He seemed fine with his mouth going at a hundred miles an hour, talking about everything and nothing. He gave his input sometimes, pointing out things and asking him about a few other things or just things that were on his mind, things he wanted to know.

The guy was opening up, that was for sure. Hell, he even smiled the other day, a genuine one, and that was only because his ringtone for the Cap was ‘Star Spangled Man With A Plan’.

Anyway, talking about the birthday boy.

Steve was stuck before, he came to Clint for help and he thought that maybe getting him something from the old days would be a good thing. The cap eventually decided on something nice, his suit. The suit he wore before leaving for the War, with the hat and everything. Clint guessed he understood his thinking. It was the suit before everything happened. He couldn’t exactly give him the Howling Commando suit. It was on a rack back in the Smithsonians.

Now Clint… he had another idea, something… _actually_ thoughtful. He’d put some effort into thinking what the soldier would like, or not like. Something special that would stay with the guy, something he could keep and hold, and it wouldn’t just up and disappear. Like he forgot it or just left it without a second thought.

The archer was currently playing in his own little lab, his little workshop cubbyhole on his floor in the Avengers Tower. Everyone was there, the Avengers, Fury, freakin’ _Coulson_ , who wasn’t actually dead. The jerkface.

Fury made sure that only the _need to know_ were there. Hell, the guy even got him a gift, and he had a good idea about what it was.

His party was tomorrow, when everyone would be giving him gifts and other things. But Clint wanted to give it to him alone, wanted to make his smile last before he walked into a room filled with anxiety. The archer knew that the guy would clamb up, especially when everyone’s attention would be on him. Socially… he had a lot of issues. He liked silence, liked being alone, without other people worrying him or worrying over him. He was a solitary guy. And it was one of the reasons that he assumed he liked hanging around Clint. Yeah, he talked and talked and talked and talked, but his babbling was background noise, something constant and continuous, something that was always there and something that he assumed Bucky liked over dead silence.

He liked his silence, his _own_ silence. He liked to _listen_. If it was a contradiction, whatever, it was Bucky. It made sense to Clint.

The archer blew on the tiny metal shards lying around his table, watching them gather up against the wall the table was bolted to. He kept scratching into the metal, carving and digging into it. He’d done the same with the other one. He had a press at his side, already having been used and was still hot, slowly cooling though. Clint really hoped that the guy would appreciate his artistic attempt.

\----------

It was later that day, about the time he’d be at the shooting range under Stark Tower. Barnes tended to hide out there about this time, too. To watch him shoot his bow and sometimes to shoot his own guns.

Clint wandered into the dimly lit room, noting no life from what he could see. Bucky was definitely there. He felt the lizard side of his brain perk up. The thing Parker called ‘his spidey senses’. Eyes were on him, he could feel it, that was Barnes. He was there and waiting.

Clint smirked to himself, keeping his hands in his pockets, one hand holding the small red box to his leg. He’d managed to just about get them done before it was time to get to the range. Just about. He’d only then finished and rushed to the elevator. _Just in time._

He strode over to the range, staring out along the path towards the target already set up and waiting on him, his training bow and arrows lying there on the table too. Barnes had definitely been waiting on him to come down and use his free time to shoot his arrows. They made a thing out of this, wasting time on shooting. It was a scheduled thing at this point.

Clint waited a few seconds, keeping his ears out for any sounds, though there was nothing. Bucky wasn’t moving or shifting in any way to let him know he was there. Only the bow and target being set up ready for him was the give away. He pulled his hands out of his pocket, box still held in his palm. He swapped it to his other hand and placed it on the table, making sure it was in view from almost all points in the room. He knew that Buck could see it, or he really seriously hoped he caught sight of it from his pocket to the table.

He reached for his bow, twisting it around in his grip before holding it out ready, aimed at the target. He reached into the side quiver attached to the table and grabbed an arrow, notching it against the bow before drawing it back and giving it a second, taking in a breath and easing up, relaxing. He let it loose, watching it hit the target dead centre.

Clint repeated the action a few times, over and over and over again for a good twenty minutes, just aiming, shooting, aiming, shooting. And each time, he made it as close to the centre arrow as he could without knocking it out of place. He eventually lowered his bow, holding it at his side before pressing the button to draw the target in, hearing the beeping sound echo through the empty floor.

It was during that sound that he faintly heard the boots hit the floor, a low ‘thud’, but light for a guy Barnes’s size. Hw waited a little longer until he heard him stepping closer, enough to hear it clearly, even with his hearing aids.

He turned his head, looking over his shoulder to see the soldier striding over with a blank expression, his usual look. He could see a sort of twitch there too, like he was thinking too hard on something, but trying not to let it bother him.

“Terminator,” Clint drew out his trademark smirk, watching the soldier slow down as he closed in. He got a nod in greeting, no words leaving his lips for a moment. As silent as ever.

The archer scoffed and turned back to the target, not bothering to get it from where it was hanging just out of reach on the other side of the table. A perfect circle of arrows close together with one stuck dead centre. He turned to glance at the box, staring for a moment before reaching out and grabbing it, holding it for the soldier.

And in return, the guy just stared at it like it was about to bite him or something, like it would blow up if he touched it. He was more than sure that the soldier hadn’t had a present since the ol days, since before Hydra got their grubby hands on him, so he understood the suspicion.

“It’s called an early birthday present,” Clint gestured towards it, jerking it at him for emphasis. He just stood there, looking perplexed as all hell before hesitantly reaching out for it and holding it in his metal hand, his other reaching around the lid. He didn’t pull the box apart though, he just held it in both hands, staring at it for a moment before giving him a questioning glance.

“It’s meant to be tomorrow,” he didn’t sound too sure, like he couldn’t really remember, or didn’t think he should even deserve a gift or something.

“I got excited and couldn’t wait,” Clint used as an excuse. Honestly, it was one of the reasons. It was just a pro to the list of ‘ _show him before everyone gives him presents_ ’.

He watched as the soldier sighed and slowly pried apart the lid from the box. In only a second of the lid being removed, he saw Bucky’s expression open. His eyes widened, his mouth fell open and he was clearly surprised, maybe a little shocked and stunned and maybe he was confused? He didn’t know about that. But he was definitely struck by the present.

Clint saw him turn his gaze up to him, staring at him like he just did the gift, and Barton let his grin grow. He didn’t not like it at least. He wasn’t dead yet.

\---------- Flashback.

Clint was holding the little rectangle of thin metal, keeping it still against the press as he lowered the weight and let it crush into the metal, taking off the edges until it had a curve. Dog-tags were surprisingly easy to make if you knew what you were doing. And Clint knew exactly what he was doing.

He let the press go, the thing lifting and revealing the dog-tag. He’d already done the first one, having copied all the old info on his old tag that Steve let him use as reference. It was lying above the new one, looking old and rusty. He was tempted to use the old one and the one he was about to work on, to give him something real that had been with him years ago.

Screw it, that was what he was doing. Clint could keep the new one. He worked hard on it.

The archer dropped into his seat, staring at the tag with the new information on it.

 

 

> -Barnes
> 
> -James. B.
> 
> -32557038
> 
> -A pos
> 
> -Winter Soldier, Assassin
> 
> -Avenger

Clint smiled at the little piece of metal, giving it a second before he reached out for the chain that held the tags together and the old dog tag from the soldiers early years. The old and the new were then attached by the chain and he clipped it together, holding it out in his hand to look it over. It was nice looking, an old, rusty tag against the new shiny one. He could imagine Bucky wearing it and he was hopeful he wasn’t going too far.

He glanced over to the clock, noting the time and he jumped out of his seat. He’d be late, shit. He strode over to his bed, grabbing the little red box and carefully dropped the tags and chain inside, closing it up and pocketing it, his hand still wrapped around it. He didn’t want anyone knowing that he was about to give him his gift early. Hell, Stark would try to one-up him and give it to him first if he knew that Clint was about to, and then that would prompt Steve, and then Nat would more than likely want in and then his plan on giving him a thoughtful gift would be ruined so fast, it would be as fast as Pietro.

Clint shook his head of the thought and jogged out of his bedroom slash workshop, heading straight for the elevator.

\---------- Flashback End.

The archer watched as he dropped the box, the chain hold the tags gripped in his hand while he looked them over. He didn’t put them on though, he just held them, his other hand reaching out to stop the dog-tags from moving so he could read them. And he did, he noted the little curve draw at the very corner of his lips. And that was good enough for him.

“Happy Birthday, Bucky,” as soon as he said it, he saw the soldiers eyes snap towards him, his face still half blank, half smiling and he then took a few steps towards him, taking the space between them and Clint was then enveloped in a hug, arms wrapped around him, a face buried in his shoulder and neck, hair tickling his skin. He stayed still, having zoned out for a moment. His arms ever so slowly wrapped around the bigger guy, embracing him back and he couldn't help the smile growing wider on his own face.

"Thank you," Bucky replied.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope ya'll liked this and I hope you enjoy my other Bucky/Clints if you read through them :) Everything I write on these two seem to be fluffy things xD


End file.
